


Boiling Point

by Anonymouspotato



Series: Autistic!Player Drabbles [1]
Category: Carmen Sandiego (Cartoon 2019)
Genre: Autistic Meltdown, Autistic Player (Carmen Sandiego), Drabble, Gen, Male-Female Friendship, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Talking, autistic characters written by autistic author, fuck ableism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-15 02:57:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18065270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymouspotato/pseuds/Anonymouspotato
Summary: Player has a meltdown in a hotel bathroom, and he and Carmen talk it out.





	Boiling Point

**Author's Note:**

> TW for meltdowns and self injurious stimming.

Player was numb. His backpacks fell to the ground as he looked around the hotel room. After a... _ run in _ with V.I.L.E, Carmen has decided to get him out of Ontario, and now they were laying low in a hotel in British Columbia before they moved on to a caper in Portugal the next morning.

All his belongings-clothes, hygiene products, stim toys, and of course his computer, were stuffed into the backpacks. And his mom was nowhere to be found.

He’d been running on adrenaline alone for the past three hours, and it was finally leaving his system, making him shudder, jittery and scared.  _ Mom is…Mom is… _

He could feel his throat tightening, little fists beating against the inside of his eyes. Everything was big and bright and he just wanted to shrink into himself and stop  _ feeling  _ so much-

_ Meltdown. I’m having a meltdown.  _

He stumbled to the bathroom, clutching the cold ceramic, trying to ground himself, pull out of his head, and it  _ didn’t work. _ He fell to the floor, clutching his head and rocking back and forth, the  _ thump-thump-thump _ against the wall doing something to stave it off as he hiccuped and sobbed, falling to pieces their on the floor.

 

Carmen was registering the plane tickets for Lisbon Portela Airport the next morning, sitting on the floor while Zack and Ivy snored on the couch. She stretched, ready to head off to bed, when she felt something. Traveling through the wall, one after the other.  _ Bump. Bump. Bump. _ That was troubling.

She put a hand on the wall and followed the vibrations to their source. The hallway-Player’s room-Player’s  _ bathroom. _ She opened the door, and her eyes widened.

Player was on the ground, curled up in the fetal position and rocking roughly back and forth.  _ Oh gosh, what do I do? Uhh… _

She reached down and set a hand behind Player on the wall, cushioning his head and tilting it up. Player’s eyes were screwed shut, full of tears. “C-Carm.” He forced out, almost painfully from the looks of it.

“Shh. You’re okay. It’s fine.” She whispered. Loud noises were probably not good right now. “You want me to turn the lights off?

He nodded, and she reached up to flick the switch, plunging them into the dimness. He lunged at her, pulling her into a tight hug. His fingernails dug into her back as he sobbed and shuddered for a full ten minutes. When he finally calmed down, he stood up awkwardly and grabbed his arm. “I’m sorry.”

“Why? You just-actually I don’t know. What was that exactly?”

“A meltdown. They happen sometimes. When I’m stressed, or overwhelmed.”

“Melt...down?”

He took a shuddery breath. “I’m autistic.”

“Oh.” Carmen stood there, surprised. “ _ Oh. _ I’m sorry, I don’t know much about autism. Is there anything else you need to tell me?”

“Need to? I don’t know. But want too? Definitely.” He walked out of the bathroom and sat on the bed, patting down next to him. “C’mon.”

Carmen sat down next to him, and Player took a deep breath in. “So, the important stuff is that I don’t always understand what people mean, I get really excited about certain topics, and some sensory input messes me up. So if you tell me to do something like nuke a burrito, I won’t really get  _ why _ unless you explain it to me, I know  _ way _ to much about geography and computers, and I don’t like bright lights or loud noises.”

“And the meltdowns?”

“Those happen when I’m overwhelmed. Usually by sensory input or emotions. Tonight, it was the second one.”

“Got it. So be willing to explain, learn more about programming, and no neon light parties. That’s not so hard. Are people mean about this?”

“Sometimes, yeah.”

“That’s stupid. Y’know, I think I’ll add autism some support groups to my charity list.”

Player smiled and went under the covers. “I’d like that. Can I look over the list?”

“Sure.” Carmen stood up and walked over to the doorway, yawning and stretching. I’m gonna get to sleep. Night, Player.”

“Night, Carm. Sweet dreams.”

**Author's Note:**

> All of what Player says is drawn from my own experience with Asberger’s and social anxiety-obviously, not every autistic person will react the same way to the same situations or stimuli.
> 
> Would you be interested with more stories like this (with Zach and Ivy, etc)?
> 
> And the Lisbeth Portela airport is real-one of only three international airports in all of Portugal.


End file.
